


Sirona

by sueKay04



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Semi Beta Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sueKay04/pseuds/sueKay04
Summary: DISCONTINUED, SORRY.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax, Julian Bashir/Other(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Sirona

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> This is one of my first proper forays into Deep Space Nine fanfiction, so please be kind! 
> 
> A few notes - Julian and Ezri's relationship is not going to be a major focus for this story, and while I don't particularly mind the ship, they're not my ship of choice (sorry to those who like the pairing!)
> 
> I've borrowed some concepts and tidbits from beta canon, such as Ezri switching to command and becoming Captain of the USS Aventine, and Garak becoming Cardassia's Ambassador to the Federation prior to his Castellanship, but other things will be very different to what is acknowledged in the novels. I have also been watching "Alone Together" so I may include things from that as well further down the line!
> 
> Please also note that the character death will be way in the future, and doesn't figure into the plot at this moment.
> 
> Above all else, I hope you enjoy this story, and I would greatly appreciate any feedback you can provide (constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged)!
> 
> PS I am looking for a Beta to help me with the overall plot and to bounce ideas off of in relation to character development!

“This feels a little crazy,” Ezri chirped, “I mean you’ve lived on the station for what, 15 years?”

“16,” Julian corrected.

Nodding, his fiancé continued to pack some of his clothing into a standard issue duffel bag, “I’m surprised the Colonel is letting us keep these quarters. I doubt they’ll be getting much use now.”

“Well, both our ships have DS9 for a home base. That might change when you transfer to the Emmett Till though.”

Ezri nodded again.

Dax had been in command of the USS Aventine for a number of years now, having made Captain long before he had. Then again Ezri had switched to command early in her counselling career, whereas Julian had simply taken the Bridge Officer’s exam to broaden his career prospects. The Aventine was Ezri’s baby, and she loved that ship like it was a living, breathing person. But it had been a prototype, and Starfleet had decided it needed decommissioning. Instead she was being given command of the Emmett Till, one of Starfleet’s new _Spirit-Class_ starships, and it was a bit of a behemoth with a crew of nearly 1000, a larger complement than his own ship was going to have, but not by much.

In the years following the Dominion War, Starfleet seemed to have felt the need to prove they were still firmly in control of peacekeeping and patrolling within Federation Space, and that they were reliable first responders to associate worlds and tentative allies. As a result, the ships churned out by the San Francisco and Utopia Planitia yards had become bigger and bigger. It wasn’t just flagships like the Enterprise that were of large proportions now. Even Julian’s first command was a _Sovereign-Class_ vessel. For a medical ship, and for a first command, he’d been shocked to say the least…

* * *

“I’m sorry sir, would you care to run that past me again?”

Admiral Ross and Commodore MacIntosh both flitted each other a bemused look.

“We’re offering you a promotion, to take command of Starfleet’s new medical flagship. You’re one of the finest medical officers Starfleet has produced this century. You’re a certified Bridge officer and you’ve taken command in many tough situations. Both Starfleet Command and Starfleet Medical feel that you are the best candidate for the job.”

Command? Of a starship? They really thought he was ready for that? Sure he’d ended up taking command of the Defiant on a few occasions in the last few years, and there was that one incident on the Aventine where he’d had to take command when Ezri and her senior staff had been incapacitated. But a full command, and of a ship of the Sirona’s magnitude? He felt like he was being made victim of an elaborate practical joke.

“Thank you, Admiral for the vote of confidence. If I may, Commodore MacIntosh, can I ask why some more prestigious officers haven’t been offered this vessel?”

Gerry MacIntosh, head of Starfleet Medical for nearly a decade now, was a wry but amiable fellow whom Julian held in great respect. He was also an extremely candid man and he knew that, unlike Admiral Ross, the man’s answers would be free of platitudes and ego-stroking.

“If I’m honest we only considered two candidates and knew the other one wouldn’t be interested. Dr. Crusher has been helping to design the _Commonwealth-class_ from the ground-up. It’s going to be the first custom-built Medical Starship class, while the Sirona is going to be a refit _Sovereign-class._ ”

 _Sovereign-class_ vessels were huge, and infamous for lacking in medical capacity. MacIntosh seemed to take note of Julian’s incredulity over the Sirona’s specifications, and sought to reassure him.

“The Sirona is heavily reconfigured. It will serve primarily as a hospital ship and a scientific test bed. _Sovereigns_ have a lot of redundancy in them space-wise and that will be well utilised. Additionally, she’ll have a smaller crew than other _Sovereigns,_ and we’ve done away with Junior officer space altogether. The entire crew will have quarters just for themselves since it’s unlikely you’ll be carrying out diplomatic missions.”

Well that was a start. Julian had long protested the fact that junior medical personnel often had to share quarters with several other young officers, arguing that they needed a place of their own in order to adequately rest and take care of their mental health. To have a crew that all had a little space to call their own might make for a good case study. And imagine how much more productive they might be.

Still something didn’t add up, and he couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet.

* * *

It felt odd to be walking the Promenade, knowing that his departure to the Sirona was imminent. The station’s denizens seemed to be noting his presence today and he received several nods and smiles.

Were they happy for him? Or just happy he was leaving?

Julian didn’t have much left to do prior to departure, save for paying a visit to the infirmary to ensure Dr. Girani was prepared to take over, and of course he had to wait for the Sirona’s staff to finish arriving as she would be docking with only a skeleton crew.

As he walked by Quark’s however, he felt he was being watched and sure enough as he turned around, he could see the Ferengi staring at him from his bar’s takeaway counter.

Quark never seemed to age, still looking the same as he had when Julian first met him, but then the species was very long-lived by humanoid standards, even surpassing Vulcans. Going by Quark’s age, he’d probably only start to look middle aged long after Julian, Ezri, Miles and just about everyone else on the station had started pushing up daisies.

The Ferengi gave him a toothy grin, “I’d expected you to be out here, strutting about looking like the Bodavian Cat that got the Springwine, but you’re looking rather reflective instead. I guess you did grow up after all.”

People often wrote all Ferengi off as unscrupulous con artists of relatively limited intelligence, but having known the man in front of him for the best part of 20 years, he’d come to know the Ferengi to be more than the stereotypes suggested. And indeed, Quark was one of the keenest observers of human behaviour he had ever encountered.

“Yes, well I do think a certain young, wet behind the ears Lieutenant junior grade would have strutted about like a peacock if he’d just been given his first command. But you’re right, I have indeed matured, at least a little…I hope?”

“You definitely have.”

Julian leaned his weight against the counter as Quark fussed with something behind the bar.

“I’d offer you a going away drink Captain, but I know you’ve got a busy schedule and that you won’t even consider synthehol let alone anything stronger, so I’ll make it up to you when you’re back from your shakedown mission…In the meantime, “ he hoisted up a heavy bottle of Scotch from under the counter, “I got you this.”

Before Julian knew it, the bottle was thrust into his hands, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of Quark’s patrons – he could see Morn’s beady eyes squinting and trying to read the label.

“Quark what is- “

“-Remember you asked me to order it, a bottle of the good stuff for your ready room?”

“But I- “

“-It was so good of you to pay for it upfront. So generous,” Quark winked at him, “Now begone, up to your fancy starship. Remember if you ever decide to upgrade your undoubtedly dreary Starfleet lounge, a Quark’s franchise might be just the thing your junior officers need to relax and unwind.”

* * *

Julian knew the other shoe was about to drop when MacIntosh left he and Admiral Ross alone to discuss the ship’s specifications. MacIntosh had told him he knew how big a decision this would be for him, especially since he and Ezri had only just got engaged, and he should take his time to think about it. Ross however seemed eager to get an immediate answer from him, or at least an indication of a decision, and he also seemed very keen for MacIntosh to depart.

With the door to his spacious office now closed, Ross drew him a knowing smile, but it wasn’t a friendly one.

“Tell me Commander, what else is on your mind?”

It was a loaded question, given their shared career history and past altercations. Did Julian answer cautiously or go in all guns blazing? It was always a balancing act given Ross’ true loyalties.

“A _Sovereign-class_ medical ship? For a first command? It’ll definitely turn heads sir.”

“And bruise a few egos? We’re handing you a prime assignment on a silver platter. We could still easily offer this ship to a Command Division Captain, after all, they’re ten-a-penny. You however are an exceptional rarity, and an asset that – to put it bluntly – Starfleet has chronically under-used since the end of the Dominion War.”

Asset. He hated that word. Hated being reduced to a thing, a commodity. It also belied the subtext of Ross’ comments, and the whole reason Julian had been headhunted for this command.

“How has Starfleet justified giving so much ship space to a medical vessel sir? I mean I’ll be out there in a _Sovereign,_ while famed Captains like William Riker are still trundling about in _Luna-class_ ships.”

Ross scrunched his mouth up a little, seemingly – and not unusually – irritated by Julian.

“Of course, sir, I do believe I have at least a little bit of an inkling,” Julian added pointedly.

Ross’ eyes met his own, coldly for a moment, before he hit a control on his desk. Seconds later his comm badge was discarded, flung haphazardly on the surface between them. Julian did the same, but much more carefully, placing the badge to rest on the glass surface. After all Julian cherished his insignia a lot more than Ross seemed to by any measure.

Ross inhaled audibly, before forcing out a sigh, “By all means feel free to speak candidly Commander.”

* * *

“He gave you the bottle?” Dr Girani Semna asked, a look of complete incredulity on her face.

“He must have, unless Ezri paid for it and told him it was for me?”

“No…Ezri does not like drunk you,” Semna reminded him, “Plus if it were a present from her you can rest assured, she would have given it to you personally.”

The Bajoran doctor had been his deputy in the infirmary since the early days, and while they got on well their relationship had never really moved beyond the professional, as was common with medical staff on starships and space stations. Semna had however become close friends with Ezri, and he knew to his discomfort, that he was a frequent topic of discussion.

“You’re right. Maybe it was Miles then?”

“Again, if he was going to gift you really good – what is it called? Scotch? – he’d make sure he was there to drink it with you.”

She had a point.

“I’m stumped then.”

“Well, what about Jake or Nog?”

Being a Ferengi who’d spent ample time on Earth, Nog knew a good Scotch, but they weren’t so close that Nog would know what he liked to drink these days, and Jake? He wouldn’t have a clue.

“I doubt it, but if I find out I’ll let you know. In the meantime, please tell me – are you good to go?”

Semna nodded, “Yes Julian, ready to tackle whatever comes my way. Best of luck for your shakedown cruise.”

* * *

Normally when he had a spare moment at Starfleet Headquarters, Julian would wander to the edge of the campus and look at the Golden Gate Bridge and the gleaming spires of San Francisco. He would fill his lungs with wonderful, fresh sea air – a tonic to all the sterile, recycled air his lungs had been forced to process since he’d moved to DS9. He loved the sound of the water, the sound of the seagulls. In the cacophony of noise that was always present at HQ, escaping to the water’s edge relaxed him and made him feel a million light years away. He’d been sat with his eyes closed for some time, hoping he was out of view as he tried to meditate, but the worries on his mind made the meditation somewhat difficult.

Giving up, he opened his eyes but saw no water. Instead he saw the perfectly manicured gardens at the heart of the campus.

Julian never cared for manicured gardens, not that he would ever let Garak or Keiko know that fact. But sitting in them today, after his meeting with Ross it felt oddly appropriate. Indeed, his Cardassian friend was on his mind a lot right now. He was tempted to go and seek his counsel, but it would be extremely inappropriate to discuss his current worries with the Cardassian Ambassador to the Federation, even if a trip to Paris did sound very appealing.

Julian eyed the meticulous gardens in front of him. Every plant grew exactly where it was planned to, every hedge was cut to perfect shape. Any plants that sprung up of their own accord were uprooted and planted elsewhere. Any diseased or wilting plants were removed. It was a micromanaged landscape of both beauty and complete order – no chaos or individuality allowed. It seemed an apt metaphor given Admiral Ross’ agenda.

Ross had confirmed his concerns, and made it clear he had little choice but to accept the offered command – if he said no the offer would never be made again. DS9 would be the end line of his career. Of course, if need be, he would stay on the station to his retirement, but Ross knew he’d taken the Bridge Officer’s Exam because he wanted something new to sink his teeth into. Ross had also dragged Starfleet Medical into this, and Julian got the very distinct impression MacIntosh hadn’t been fully read in to what was going on. If Julian objected while MacIntosh didn’t have a clear picture, he knew the man would be disappointed.

So it seemed like he would be taking command of the USS Sirona after all. Not only that, but Ross would have direct say over some of the appointments to his senior staff.

He wondered what Ezri would think of his new job, especially as there would be no opportunity to discuss it with her.

* * *

Julian was very anxious, and as result he was alternating between leaning on the central console in Ops and pacing about the room. Eventually Colonel Terny invited him into her office – he was making the Ops team nervous.

Starfleet had never appointed a new commander to DS9 after Sisko’s sudden departure. It had become apparent by then that Bajor had little to gain by joining the Federation at that time, and with Starfleet having taken the battering it had, they decided to deploy resources elsewhere. Before he knew it, he, Ezri and Chief Pflugg were the only senior Starfleet officers left. Nog had soon replaced Pflugg as Chief of Ops after making full Lieutenant. But Ezri and Nog had soon risen through the ranks, made Captain, and left him as the sole senior Starfleet officer, with only a small rump of fellow Starfleet officers left.

Colonel Terny Maloy had taken over when Kira had resigned to begin her religious training several years ago. He and Maloy got along very well although they were very different people. Maloy hadn’t been surprised to see him depart, given the fact there was barely a Starfleet contingent left, but she had lamented the loss of his skills.

“Aren’t you Starfleet Captains supposed to be composed at all times?” She said, smirking.

“Don’t mistake excitement for nerves Maloy,”

Maloy chuckled, “I know you too well Julian…You’re nervous, there’s no shame in that though, just try to keep it to yourself around your subordinates…After all we command staff have an image to maintain.”

“I suppose we do.”

He and Maloy talked for awhile about nothing in particular, as they always managed to. Her easy, approachable manner hid her iron resolve and tenacity well, and when a crisis would hit the station you could easily get whiplash watching how quickly she could step up to the mark. Nerys had chosen her replacement well.

Eventually however, they received a communiqué from the Sirona – it was approaching the station and requesting permission to dock.

Being a _Sovereign-class_ vessel, it was a tricky manoeuvre for her to dock at the upper pylons, so she was directed to the outer ring instead, with Maloy choosing the dock which was afforded the best, albeit partially obstructed view from her office.

Within minutes the USS Sirona NCC-78456 glided into view and began docking procedures. As she did so, Julian’s new First Officer hailed the station and the line was put through to Maloy’s office.

“Welcome to Deep Space Nine Commander,” Maloy smiled at the jovial Denobulan who was on-screen.

“Commander Merry, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Julian beamed.

“The honour is all mine Captain, and I’m looking forward to giving you your official tour when you come aboard. I’ve had a delightful time investigating this ship while we’ve been in transit. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed – She is a thing of beauty.”

* * *

“A promotion? And a command? Julian that’s amazing! Oh this is so exciting!” Ezri whooped with joy.

Julian breathed a sigh of relief that she was happy, he’d been expecting an argument having taken the job without consulting her first. After all, they’d had a lengthy chat when she’d first taken a posting away from the station. He’d at least owed her the same courtesy, not that he’d had the chance to provide it.

“What’s her name? What type of ship is she?”

“Well, that’s the most amazing part of all of this…She’s a medical ship, but not just any medical ship. She’ll be the medical flagship until the _Commonwealth-class_ is good to go- “

“Ahhh!” Ezri screamed through the commlink, “Tell me more!”

“Well…she’s the USS Sirona, and she’s a refit _Sovereign._ ”

Ezri’s excitement suddenly dialled down several notches until her features settled on confusion, with a hint of jealously.

“They gave you a _Sovereign?_ Well no wonder you snapped up that assignment without talking to me first.”

Ah, now it was a problem. Now that he had a better ship than she did it would be an issue he supposed. Julian shrugged, unable to elaborate on the true reason for his acceptance.

“How could I say no?”

Ezri pouted, seemingly deciding to forgive him for not talking to her first, “Of course you couldn’t. I wouldn’t have said no either…Think they’ll give me a _Sovereign_ when the Aventine is decommissioned?”

“Who knows? I can’t see why not!”

“Still…it’ll be weird coming home from a mission to empty quarters on the station.”

Julian nodded, feeling a pang of pain in his heart. They were going to be spending even less time together than they already did.

“We’ll need to make sure we take shore leave together then,” he said, emotion creeping into his voice.

Ezri nodded sombrely, “We’ll also need to rethink wedding dates...Goodness knows how long your shakedown cruise will last. I mean it could be a month or a year.”

“We’ll work it out Ezri, we always do. After all we’ve had to learn to not neglect _us_ while pursuing our careers.”

It hadn’t always been easy though, and they both knew it was about to get that much more difficult.

* * *

It was only Ezri waiting for him at the airlock. In years gone by there would have been a veritable sea of faces – Sisko, Jake, Worf, Nog, Kira, Miles, Keiko, Odo, Rom and many others, and of course Jadzia.

“What time does the Aventine get here tomorrow?” he asked her softly.

“0700,” Ezri had taken a few days leave to help Julian get ready to depart.

“I hope you have a very pleasant mission,” he told her, like he always did when they were parting.

“I always do when I know I’m coming home to you,” she responded, like she always did, “And I hope your mission doesn’t suck,” she added with a grin.

“It better not, and if it does, I’ll just run away and come and visit you.”

Suddenly aware of officers waiting for him on the other side of the airlock, he gave her the briefest of kisses before the airlock opened and a few his officers stood aside to welcome him aboard.

“I’ll see you soon, Captain,” he winked at Ezri.

“You too, Captain,” she winked back.

He walked up into the airlock and acknowledged his officers, before pressing the controls and allowing the lock to slide back into place. He saw Ezri give him a small wave and he nodded in her direction, before trying to fully turn his attention to the task at hand. As he introduced himself to the welcoming committee he glanced back to the other side and saw that Ezri was already gone,


End file.
